


Push Ups

by orphan_account



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gyms, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5599864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Youngjae's thirsty; literally and figuratively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push Ups

**Author's Note:**

> I've had such a bad writer's block omg (the title's still so silly tho, sorry). I wrote this really fast (relatively fast) so sorry if there are some mistakes or plot-holes???  
> Just some things to look out for: Body image stuff (internalized fat-phobia) really briefly mentioned. Lot's of body admiration.

Youngjae flops onto his back with a pitiful groan. “No more!” His bare, sweaty arms are probably picking up dirt from the nasty gym floor, but he could care less at this point. “I’m done.”

Beside him, Junhong sits down gracefully (because somewhere in the past year Youngjae’s known him, he’s transformed from a clumsy baby giraffe into a limber gazelle -- or something). “Aw, come on, hyung. You were doing really well.” And it isn’t _fair_. Youngjae’s panting and sweating out of every pore in his body, and Junhong’s got a light sheen on his forehead, his t-shirt damp in a way that still somehow looks good. What the _hell_.

He gives Junhong a dry look. “Remind me why I’m doing this again.”

As if he needed a reminder. When he sleepily mumbled to Daehyun that he’d do anything to see Junhong’s rippling abs and strong arms more often...he didn’t think his life would turn out like this. Going to the gym three times a week with his former tutee.

(“Are you trying to impress someone?” Youngjae had teasingly asked, when Junhong had animatedly told him about his exercise goals and invited Youngjae to join. Junhong had looked flustered for a moment before wiggling his eyebrows with a playful grin, telling Youngjae that he’d see him the next night, “10PM, don’t forget.”)

Youngjae still doesn’t know who the younger is trying to impress, if anyone, but _he’s_ certainly in awe with the way Junhong’s muscles constrict and relax under his skin, the ease with which he moves his body.

“I explained, like, two days ago what push-ups are for, hyung.” Junhong’s eyebrows are furrowed but there’s an impish gleam in his eyes. “The way we’ve been doing them is for chest muscles.” He looks over at Youngjae, slow and deliberate. Or maybe it just seems like that, because Youngjae’s suddenly hyperaware of how his shirt is drenched and clinging to his body line (he’s been working out for like a month with Junhong but he still has a little belly fat), of how his chest rises and falls with every inhale and exhale (did his breathing just get louder?). “It looks like it’s been working for you. The push-ups, I mean.”

Youngjae swallows. “I, uh. Yeah. I guess,” he replies, eloquently.

Junhong sighs softly and stretches his arms above his head. He’s rolled up his his t-shirt sleeves, and from here, Youngjae can see trimmed tufts of hair in his armpits. He hates how cute he finds it.

(He’s in _way_ too deep.)

“Ready to head out, then?”

Youngjae blinks. “Huh? What, no.” He chews on his lower lip, feeling a little guilty. He doesn’t want to inhibit Junhong's routine or anything. “You finish up, I’ll watch. I mean sit here. Lay here. I’ll lay here and watch.” He coughs, cheeks flushed. “Not like. _Watch_. But, uhm. You know.” He really needs to stop talking.

Junhong laughs and easily moves into a plank position. “I have about 15 left.” His eyes glimmer, and he looks like he’s about to say something else, but he catches himself and lowers his chest to the ground, arms bending at a perfect ninety degree angle, body long and taut. His triceps are bulging slightly -- he’s always been muscular, but not _too_ muscular -- and Youngjae needs to down a water bottle or five.

And then he pushes back up. “One,” Junhong hums happily. Youngjae wonders when it -- their relationship? dynamics? Junhong? -- shifted. He met Junhong when he was a flustered freshmen who had just moved up to the city and needed help with calculus. He had liked Junhong then, with his wide, curious eyes, soft cheeks that were prone to blushing, and lanky legs that always had bruises from skateboarding. And it’s not like Junhong’s _changed_ , or anything.

He seems to have grown into himself. He’s more confident, but he still blushes deep red when Sunhwa and Hyosung shower him with attention. He dances so gracefully with Jongup, but still trips (and catches himself) over stairs when he’s excited or in a rush. He’s still shy and respectful around Yongguk, but doesn’t hesitate joining in when they tease Himchan. He’s still slender and tall, but he’s been gaining muscle, and he's becoming more and more handsome every day.

He’s all the things that attracted Youngjae to him in the first place, and more.

“Six...”

Youngjae blinks. Junhong’s looking right at him.

“Seven...Eight...Nine….”

And maybe it’s Youngjae’s imagination, or maybe he’s tired -- it’s been such a long week -- but Junhong seems to shift closer, and the next time he brings himself down, his soft exhale is close enough to hear.

Junhong stops counting out loud, or maybe Youngjae’s heart is pounding too loudly to hear anything else. He realizes that they’re the only ones left in the campus gym. It’s nearing 11pm on a Friday night, after all.

He can see a bead of sweat on Junhong’s temple, and the tips of his bangs are damp. Youngjae licks his lips.

“Hyung,” Junhong grunts, and lowers himself all the way to the ground, rolls onto his side and props himself up on his elbow so he’s facing Youngjae.

“Uhm.” Youngjae’s got an awful habit of losing his words when it’s just the two of them.

The younger leans closer, until they’re nose to nose. And it has to be some sort dream, it has to be.

“Junhong,” Youngjae whispers. Every fiber of his being is thrumming, every cell inside him seems to be vibrating. His stomach is sinking and flying at the same time, and somehow, it gives Youngjae the courage to say, “Can I kiss you?”

“ _Yes._ ”

And before Youngjae can even smile, or laugh, or react in anyway (Junhong’s too cute when he’s eager), there are soft lips on his own and a sweaty palm on his cheek, and really. Youngjae should find it kind of gross when that bead of sweat on Junhong’s temple splashes down on Youngjae’s face, but kissing Choi Junhong feels so _good_ and _right_.

Their first kiss is short. They break apart to catch their breath, giggling and whispering.

(“I’ve been wanting to do that for a year, now.”

“Me too.”)

And then Youngjae’s hand finds its way into Junhong’s short hair and they’re kissing again, perfectly slow and sweet. It’s everything Youngjae imagined with Junhong, and so much more. This is happiness.

Youngjae sucks Junhong’s lower lip into his mouth when there’s an awkward cough behind them.

“Hey, uhm. We’re gonna be closing soon. If you two could, like. Make-out somewhere else, that would be great.”

 

\--

 

Himchan finds out the next day. He always does, somehow. Even though Youngjae didn't say anything, and he's certain Junhong didn't either.

“I can't believe your first kiss together was on a gym floor!” Daehyun laughs, loud and boisterous, far too energized for a Saturday morning. Himchan chuckles beside him, an easy arm behind Jongup’s chair, and Yongguk sips his coffee, clearly exhausted (he probably stayed up all night, again, working on mixes). His eye twitches-- either at Daehyun’s obnoxious giggles or the fact that his two younger friends made out on a gym floor (he's always been the traditional type of guy; flowers and shy hand-holding on the first date).

“Congratulations,” Jongup hums, half-occupied by the numerous sausages on his plate.

Daehyun leans in, grin too wide, and rests his chin on his palm. “So. Did you do the sit-up thing, like in the dramas, or something else?”

Youngjae chokes on his tea.

Junhong rubs his back, then laughs. “No, but Jonguppie-hyung suggested that to me.”

“Jongup!” Himchan slaps at Jongup’s arm, but he looks impressed. Youngjae wonders if he’s going to try it out on his girlfriend (he sincerely hopes not).

Jongup shrugs and says mildly, “It worked for me before.” He smiles, and Daehyun’s cheeks turn a suspicious shade of pink.

Youngjae smirks. He and Daehyun are going to have Words later.

“Hyung.” Long fingers intertwine with his own, and Youngjae looks up to see Junhong smiling at him, sweet and shy. Youngjae leans in to press a quick kiss to his cheek and beams.

(Yongguk chuckles (Yongjae’s taking that as his blessing) while Himchan and Daehyun hoot and clap, because apparently, they’re still twelve years old.)

“Let’s ditch these guys and go on a date,” Youngjae whispers, grin widening when Junhong snorts and nods.

 

\--

 

Youngjae’s laying on the floor of his dorm on a Wednesday evening, groaning because chemistry is every shade of awful, when Junhong saunters in. He lives on the floor above him and Jongup and Youngjae’s sort of forgetful about locking the door.

“Hey, hyung.” He nudges Youngjae’s leg with his toes. Not much has changed between them. There’s just a lot more kissing and cuddling and hand holding now. Basically, it’s been pretty awesome.

Youngjae pouts up at his boyfriend ( _boyfriend!_ ). “I don’t feel like going to the gym tonight.”

“That’s fine.” Something flashes in Junhong’s eyes and he grins a little _too_ innocently. He kneels down, thighs on either side of Youngjae’s hips, hands beside his head. “But can you count for me?”

“Wha--” Junhong gets into a plank position, and lowers himself down, brushing his lips against Youngjae’s nose.

“That’s one, hyung.” He’s smirking, and Youngjae can’t help but laugh.

“Two,” Youngjae says, and Junhong kisses his forehead.

Three, a peck to the cheek. Four, a kiss on the other cheek. Five, Junhong’s lips brush against his chin. Six, he's ghosting over Youngjae's lips.

“Seven,” Youngjae counts, and wraps his arms around Junhong’s neck, holding down so he can kiss him properly.

(Junhong doesn’t make it past eight push-ups that day.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Comments and critiques are loved!! :)


End file.
